


No Justice, No Peace

by AstriferousSprite



Category: Election - All Media Types, Political RPF - US 21st c., Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Hux is basically a dick spencer expy, M/M, Minor Violence, dark 2016 show me the positive outcome, technically
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-18
Updated: 2017-02-18
Packaged: 2018-09-21 01:21:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9525230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AstriferousSprite/pseuds/AstriferousSprite
Summary: “—no, I’m not a neo-Nazi,” said the neo-Nazi.Or: This is why we punch fascists.





	

**Author's Note:**

> *X gon' give it to ya playing in the distance*  
> Written for stormpilotweek, with _any AU_ as the prompt. So, hey, who doesn't like modern AUs where they're still anti-fascist as hell?

To be frank, Pamich was immediately regretting this interview.

“… I’ve done this for ages,” continued Hux the morning of Election Day, gesticulating fascistly to the crowd of protesters around them, “we always expect, you know, protests—” He waved around his face. “They’ll do Silly String or something like that.”

“Uh huh,” said Pamich, nodding tensely. For the past year, Governor Snoke of the Centrist party had been gaining an uncomfortable following calling themselves “The First Order” as he ran on a xenophobic campaign. In her opinion, it would be unspeakable _not_ to protest him, but anyways.

The Jingoist sighed. “We’ve entered this bizarre world where leftist protesters—”

Someone yelled at him.

“— _no,_ I’m not a neo-Nazi,” said the neo-Nazi, harshly clipping his consonants as the protester continued to yell at him. Pamich’s palms suddenly felt slippery with sweat as the racist continued to deny accusations that he was a white supremacist. Why did she agree to interview this despot?

“Uhm.” Pamich pointed to the pin on the authoritarian’s lapel, desperate to get the blackshirt to stop talking. “Um, what’s your little…”

The ginger autocrat tilted his head. “What—oh!” He gestured at the hideous meme without once peeling his nasty totalitarian eyes away from Pamich’s. “Oh, Pepe’s become kind of a symbol for—”

_Wham._

Without warning, someone’s fist collided with the nationalist’s face. Pamich shrieked out in panic as Hux toppled, before walking away from the news team. In the meantime, the (presumably) Antifa who had decked the alt-Nazi had disappeared into the crowd again.

She sighed, turning to the cameraman behind her. “Come on, Snap. Let’s get out of here.”

 

A few hours later, Pamich got to witness the rightist get decked yet again.

Honestly, she didn’t _ask_ to be thrown into these situations. All she wanted to do was to take a walk, to clear her head after that god-awful run-in with the fascist. And then, what do you know, she just _happened_ to cross paths with another protest, coincidentally surrounding a certain dictator-wannabe. Although, Pamich couldn’t lie that it wasn’t satisfying seeing a Nazi with a stupid ginger undercut get punched in the face a second time.

“Oy!” she called out, trying to show gratitude without putting the protester in danger. “Um, sir—er, _person—_ Antifa!”

The vigilante turned around.

She nodded. “Thank you!”

They gave her a thumbs-up, before disappearing back into the crowd.

 

Finn was curled up on the couch when Poe came back to their apartment, rubbing his fist.

“Ice pack in the fridge,” he said, not looking up from his phone.

“And good evening to you too,” said Poe, kissing his boyfriend’s forehead as he settled in next to him, hand curled around the icepack. “I think I made a mistake.”

“Of course, you never punch someone in the face unless you’re _really_ good at it.” Finn continued to scroll through his newsfeed, absentmindedly stroking Poe’s hair.

Poe rolled his eyes. “Well, we can’t _all_ have thirteen years of martial arts experience, you know—”

“Holy shit.”

He turned his head. “What?”

Finn stared at his phone screen. “I think I’m a meme.”

“No way.” Poe turned to look at the phone. “I gotta see this.”

Finn hit play on the video. Sure enough, the sound of “We Are Number One” filled the small room as Finn’s fist repeatedly collided with the Nazi’s face to the rhythm.

Poe snorted, burying his face in Finn’s shoulder. “God.”

“There’s more like that,” said Finn with a smile. “And everyone’s claiming they were the ones who punched him.”

“Strength in numbers,” muttered Poe against his boyfriend’s shoulder.

“It’s kinda nice, you know?”

Poe grunted.

“It means that I didn’t punch that jackass in vain, and people are actually paying attention,” he continued, scrolling through the rest of the feed. “Oh, thank God.”

“What?”

He grinned. “They just called Florida.”

**Author's Note:**

> And then Leia Organa won the election and nothing sucked ever again


End file.
